Pilgrims gather on this shifting sand To visit Jesus in his Promised Land None of this belongs to any man It belongs to this place Dark clouds hover like a vulture's eye Terror raining from an angry sky Makes no difference to you or I What we have to do God forgive me if I bear a grudge But history will be my judge History will be my judge History will be my judge Fibres scratching from the trigger chord God forbid I fall upon my sword To think I'm here 'cos I was feeling bored But that was long ago Feel the metal breaking through my skin Feel the cold and hear the thundering On my face is a believer's grin That nothing can remove Give me hope and give me love Give me earth and sky above Bring me heaven 'cos I've had enough But history will be my judge History will be my judge History will be my judge Now my bones are working through the dirt Nothing troubles me and nothing hurts This hot dust has now become my church Where I worship undisturbed Someday freedom will release this land Some say maybe that I played a hand None of them will truly understand What my brothers and I went through Maybe they think we complain too much But history will be my judge History will be my judge History will be my judge History will be my judge History will be my judge